On the day I was kidnapped, the 22st of November, 2021, I was heading home by road for the holidays from school. I schooled at the Federal University of Technology, in Katsina state and was heading to Minna, Niger state for my holidays.
Now, I am the type of person who sleeps in a moving vehicle but that day, I couldn’t sleep; I had earlier been conversing with another passenger about the danger of the road we were travelling because you see, our driver kept stopping on the road to drop passengers and I was anxious.
The attack came at exactly three o’ clock. I knew because I had just spoken to my mum on the phone, telling her where we had reached; as soon as I turned off the phone, I saw it reflect at 3pm on the screen and immediately heard gunshots.
We were on that Rijana road in Kaduna state.
The driver was confused because gunshots came from virtually everywhere; we passengers were screaming, scared, confused because we didn’t know where the gunshots were coming from and we didn’t want to be caught in it.
At this time, our 18 passenger bus had only three passengers left, (myself, my friend from school and one other young lady, all female) as some had dropped off along the way.
The driver stopped on the road and fled; several other vehicles caught in that gun fire too had stopped and I saw many people running into the bush opposite. My friend and I and the lady were left paralyzed with fear in the bus.
We couldn’t even open the door of the bus! So we just sat there in fear until one of the kidnappers opened the bus for us and ordered us out into the bush along with several other road users they had just caught!
When we began our trek into the bush, I counted about 20 victims, we may have been more but we were about 20 something.
They marched us a short distance and stopped to add a few more victims they had kidnapped the day before…yes, we heard them talking about the victims they kept on hold from the previous day’s raid; which was the 21st of November, 2021!
I couldn’t tell how many we were in all but we ranged from 30 something upwards.
They took our names, asked us if we had people in the military, took the numbers of people we wanted them to call for our ransom and questioned us on the nature of our family- who had money, who worked where…that sort of thing.
Because they had taken our bags, wallets, phones and other personal items, they told us to be truthful, that if they found out we lied, they would kill us immediately!
I gave a false name, I gave a false identity and I’ll tell you why.
But first, we trekked for two days without shoes, without food and around the evening time, they asked us to sleep wherever we could and if we came by a river, they told us to drink from the river.
The following morning before day break, they woke us to continue trekking.
You can imagine trekking on bare foot, in a hot and dusty terrain, with barks, stones, all kinds of things that make walking difficult. We were tired and there were a few elderly people among us.
After about the third day or so, some were too weak to continue the trek, even though that was when they began to give us food. The kidnappers got some of the villagers in the area we were forced to trek, to carry the weak in their makeshift rickshaw; the types farmers use to move coal or farm produce from place to place, so these rickshaws were used to carry some of us; I was among those lifted in it. I was exhausted, famished and had double vision by the third day.
The kidnappers warned the people carrying us not to follow paths where they would encounter military checkpoints or they would kill the people and go back to destroy their villages. So these villagers complied, they looked on us with pity; they were as much victims as we were.
We weren’t even allowed to talk among ourselves, they expressly forbade the use of English as means of communication; this I think is because they didn’t speak nor understood it but even when we spoke in Hausa, they would warn the person, however, they would beat anyone they hear speaking English.
In fact, we were beaten daily for good behavior.
They woke us up and beat us with sticks and the men with cutlass…just to show they were in charge, to instill fear in us and discourage any form of disobedience.
There were one or two people who had families in the military that got more beating than the rest of us; like one man who was beaten with a machete or chains every day. The man I think was a military man, they saw his ID card. They beat him so much we always felt sorry for him.
When I gave a false identity, it was as much to protect me as well as my family.
I lied that my father was dead and that my uncle was responsible for my education and that he was even sick at that time. My mum, I said, is a widow who didn’t even have a job.
They asked me why I was going to school instead of being married.
In fact, they told all the women that they would take us to Zamfara state to meet their leader and marry us off to their men.
They switched between Hausa, to speak to us and Fulfulde to speak among themselves. I was able to pick a few words because my family had lived with Fulani neighbours when I was much younger. We lived with Fulani neighbours for about 8 years so I knew a few words and could guess a few meanings to what they were saying.
I had no doubt in my mind that these men meant business and they would kill at will!
They noticed I reacted to some of their expressions and insisted I was Fulani, telling me that they knew I was pretending and they said they would marry me off.
I insisted I wasn’t Fulani, I only replied in Hausa; I told them I was the daughter of a widow, who had many children to care for. I hoped the ransom demanded from my mother wouldn’t be much, like that of the military man they kept beating everyday with cutlass. His ransom was so much, that even when it was paid, they still didn’t release him but I will talk later on that.
After four or five days, they separated us from the men. They said they would kill the men and marry the women off.
This time, I also realized they had spoken to our people and agreed ransoms for each of us. They left us women in the hands of another set of their people, who are referred to as security.
Now, none of our kidnappers spoke English except for one young boy among them, he was in his early twenties. He was instrumental to many of us being kept safe and alive.
Now, the majority of us were students, so English was what we used to communicate. We were very careful, too.
Let me talk about the boy who spoke English among the kidnappers.
He told us he realised he made a mistake joining Boko Haram. He told us he didn’t like the fact that they killed people, raided villages and robbed. He said he was looking for a way to leave the group.
This young man, I was later to find out, also helped my mum; he secretly called her to tell her not to bring the ransom demanded because there were talks among his people to also kidnap my mum when she came to drop the ransom. So my mother kept stalling every time they called her for the money; she told them the money wasn’t complete and that she was still looking for more money. They told her to bring what she had but she said she hadn’t got the machine, now that machine is the most important item they want.
This young man was also instrumental in helping one of the victims escape. The military guy I told you about.
The youngman secretly told the military man how to fool the security guards holding us and when to run …unfortunately, after a few days, the escapee was caught…he ran right into the house of the big boss of the gang; they call him Kachalla.
They brought him back to where they camped the rest of us and flogged him so badly, we began to pray for death for the man…it will forever remain in my mind. The man was beaten to confess that it was the youngman who taught him the escape route but he must have been confused, which is why he was caught.
That young man ran away before I left the kidnappers’ den. After that escapee incident, I think he knew the kidnappers would kill him and they meant to kill him.
I spent close to two months in the kidnappers’ den before I was released. My mum was asked for N1, 000,000, crates of beer and one Honda machine.
The Honda machine is the preferred item; because the machine can climb rocks, mountains, it is called Kickstarter and so common a demand for ransom by Boko Haram.
In Kaduna state, the Governor, Dr. El Rufai ordered that anyone found with that machine should be killed. The machine has been banned in many northern states to discourage Boko Haram from demanding it as part of ransom.
My mother had to travel to Kano state to buy it and at the time she went, it was one of two left in that entire factory that had been shut down because it had been banned up north. Even at that, the packaging was changed to deceive officials as she brought it into Kaduna from Kano, remember I said it had been banned.
After my ransom was agreed, they stopped coming to us because they had to go and get more people to kidnap. We were left with the security men, they were the ones that wanted to rape us.
But Kachalla, their leader had told us to report any of his security men who even as much as make any attempt to rape us. He was very serious about this as he made the warning in the presence of the security men.
But you see, it was not love for us that made him say this, the youngman I told you had been helping us, was the one who explained the reason to us.
He said the mallam helping the kidnappers make charms to ensure compliance to ransom and raids that the military will not interrupt, had told them that raping victims would spoil their chances of getting their ransom.
So you see, it’s business!
They want to ensure nothing destroys their business, that they don’t get caught by the military of killed by the government, so they say, “Don’t rape the victims.”
They need money, so they see it as a business.
But I also thank Allah that these kidnappers didn’t rape us
Thank God the set of kidnappers we met were the kind types…yes, they beat us daily but they see it as a business. Others kill their victims at will and rape the women.
According to them, they said if the government is ready to settle with them, they are ready, if not, they would continue kidnapping until the day of judgement; they said the government had taken their land and killed their families and so they won’t stop their business but continue forever!
Eventually when my mother got all they demanded for; the N1,000,000.00, the Honda machine, the crates of beer and I had spent 7 weeks in captivity, my mother had to spend another N20,000k to bribe an old man to take my ransom to the kidnappers.
Since she had been warned not to come herself, my mother approached some men within the community. The kidnappers demanded the ransom be dropped but they all refused saying they could also be kidnapped because it had happened many times before. It was an elderly man, who himself had fled from Zamfara state after kidnappers raided his village and killed his family. The man offered to go saying, even if they kidnapped him, there would be no ransom and if they killed him, he had nothing to lose.
The kidnappers, who by the way always wore masks or handkerchiefs to cover their faces, accepted the ransom.
When I was about to be released, they asked me what I would do.
I said, “I would go and continue my education.”
My fellow victims were shocked, the kidnappers themselves were shocked.
One of them said, “So after all these things that happened to you, you still want to continue school, that means we will continue to jam.”
Meaning, they would likely capture me again.
To be honest, I don’t know why I even said this to them, I just knew I had to finish school; I believe it is Allah that destined this to happen to me, I know that insha Allah, I will complete my education, maybe not in Katsina, maybe in a university close to home.
I am still traumatized by my abduction.
But school is uppermost on my mind.
(Series written and edited by Peju Akande and based on true stories)
